Page 4 of Texas Hold Em’ (The Devil’s Luck MC #3)

CARRIE

I pinched my phone between my ear and shoulder, and I opened Tex’s fridge for the tenth time that afternoon, hoping that, by some miracle, new food might magically appear.

My colleague back in Austin, Dan Abbot, spoke with reservation on the other end of the line. “I’m just worried about you, Carrie. I don’t like that I’m not there to back you up.”

“Be glad you’re not here.” I closed the disappointing fridge with my knee and slumped against the door. “It’s hotter than hell and I have quite literally zero friends in the department. They’re all assholes.”

“They’d have to be to not take a liking to you.”

I smiled. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” Dan sighed.

I chewed the inside of my cheek. How long had it been since I saw Dan last?

Two months? Two and a half? Something like that.

We’d worked together for just shy of five years, and when I first made Ranger, he’d been the guy to show me the ropes in Austin once I was placed at a station.

He was a tall drink of water who made the Ranger uniform look damn good—and that wasn’t an easy feat.

“How are Diane and the kids?” I asked after a beat.

I heard the smile in Dan’s voice. “Good. They’re good. Andrew started a new daycare last week where they’re teaching him how to spell better than I can.”

“An easy task really.”

“Watch it, Hart.” He chuckled. “And baby Reggie is starting to look less like me and more like Diane, so she’s thrilled.”

There was a time—a brief time admittedly—when I used to believe that I might get the white picket fence life with Dan.

We fit together like puzzle pieces. Our values matched, we craved the same career success, and we both wanted two kids and a dog in a two-story house with a backyard made for entertaining.

Trouble was, there was no sizzle. No fire.

Sure, we fit, but we didn’t thrive together. We were stagnant and we both knew it. After our breakup, we took some time apart and slowly rekindled our working relationship, and then our friendship. I suspected the only reason we were able to do such a thing was because we were so similar.

“You sure I can’t come back you up?” Dan asked. “I could ask the department to transfer me. Just for two weeks to check in on you, help check some boxes, cross some t’s. You know the drill.”

“No.” I might have spoken a little too quickly. I rubbed at my temple and took a deep breath in an effort to sound neutral. “No, it’s alright, Dan. I’ve got it covered. It’s tedious and slow going, but I’m coming to the end of it. I can feel it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Besides, it’s not like I don’t have any backup.”

“I thought you said the department there was full of assholes?”

“It is, but I have a pack of wild animals backing me up.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

I laughed. Good lord, what would Dan think of me working with a criminal biker gang of heathens? His head would spin. “I’ll explain everything when I get home.”

Dan was quiet as he processed. “Can I at least help you dig? What’s the name of your person of interest?”

“Dan,” I said softly.

Bless him. Helpful was his middle name. His heart was always in the right place, and I knew I could lean on him if I needed to, but I couldn’t this time. This mess I was in was too dirty. Too bloody.

Dan couldn’t come anywhere near it for the sake of his own neck, and for the sake of his wife and kids.

This job was mine alone.

“Can you just tell me you’re safe?” Dan pressed.

I looked around at the cinderblock apartment. “I’m safe.”

He exhaled.

“Listen, I have to go,” I said. “But thank you for calling and checking in on me. I’m going to have a beer and get some work done. Boring paperwork bullshit. Nothing serious.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that before. Have a beer for me, will you?”

“Done deal.”

Dan chuckled. “Stay safe, Hart.”

“You too.”

He ended the call.

The silence of Tex’s apartment echoed around me. Overhead, I peered into cobwebs clinging to exposed pipes in the ceiling.

Having Dan here would have changed everything. I hadn’t realized how much I was craving comfort until I heard his voice on the other line. The warmth in his greeting and the way he genuinely wanted to make sure I was okay, it reminded me I needed a friend.

“Or a distraction,” I said as I moved from the kitchen to the couch.

I collapsed into it, collected my laptop from where I’d left it on the coffee table, and set it up in my lap.

Research had always been a trusted companion.

When the going got tough, there was nothing I couldn’t drown in Google searches.

So I typed the name “Walter Bates” into the search bar.

Dozens of links flooded the search engine page, all unrelated to the Walter Bates I was looking for. I pursed my lips. I needed to get more specific.

So I typed “Walter Bates, Reno” and hit enter.

Just like that, a bunch of stuff popped up.

No photos appeared, but there were tons of brief articles about all the things that had happened in the past couple of months.

I already knew about those, though. On top of that, there were honorable mentions in police documents about donations from him and his association.

“Association,” I scoffed. “More like trailer-park syndicate.”

A couple more clicks and I found myself looking at a picture of a beautiful woman with shocking white hair and red lipstick. The name under her photo read “Caroline Bates.” His daughter.

I studied her features. She looked nothing like her father except for her brilliant blue eyes. They were sharp and calculating, even looking into a camera lens.

And evil.

What did a creature like her feel ? Was she capable of feeling anything at all?

I read more about her and learned that she seemed to call shots just like her father. She had more of an online presence than him and didn’t seem to be making any effort to look like she was something other than what she was—the daughter of a criminal who knew his legacy would soon be her own.

“A dangerous combination,” I said.

Did Walter see the threat that rested in his own daughter? Or was she his blind spot?

Interesting.

In every job I’d ever worked, there was always a pawn close to the target worth getting close to. Maybe Caroline was my pawn. Perhaps I could use the blonde-haired vixen to my advantage.

Perhaps Bates’s own progeny was the key to burning down his empire.

One thing I knew for certain was I couldn’t do any of this alone. I needed the wild animals I’d told Dan about, and I knew the only two places to look for them.